


Hanged With Good Intentions

by BloomingMiracle (Luna264)



Series: Swan Song [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, as much as it may seem, but i am not fully in control of the situation, due to my position as the author, i dont make decisions i just have hands, i like her i hope she does, might add ship tag for kaito and maki if she makes a significant appearance, one shot MY ASS ig, suicidal ideation and behavior cw, sympathetic portrayal of a character who was canonically an anti villain at BEST, this is longer than I was expecting already and im not done yet, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 09:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna264/pseuds/BloomingMiracle
Summary: Looking at the events surrounding the fifth trial of the 53rd killing game through the lense of the Swan Song AU.Just how many lies have been told up to this point?





	1. The Road to Hell

Kaito hated the boy on the other side of the door. The way he acted like this was all a game, flippant and frivolous and thoughtless, as though their lives weren’t at stake. The way he childishly toyed with everyone around him, as though their feelings weren’t real to him. The way he wouldn’t shut up.

 

“Come on, Momota,” Ouma Kokichi whined. “I’m serious here! I was lying before! I want to end the killing game, too!”

 

“Well, do it yourself, then!” Kaito called back. “You being the  _ fucking mastermind _ , and all!”

 

“That’s what I’m telling you!” The other boy huffed. “I was lying! It was a ruse to draw the mastermind out! It’s not my fault it didn’t work!”

 

“Yeah, sure!” Kaito rolled his eyes, despite the physical barrier which he hoped would remain between him and the only other person around.

 

“Wow,” Ouma said. “Real sensitive.”

 

“I don’t have to be sensitive to you.”

 

“Momota.”

 

Kaito froze.

 

The childishness had drained out of Ouma’s voice. Every ounce of levity had vanished, like it had never been there at all.

 

Maybe it hadn’t, Kaito thought as a chill ran up his spine. After all, Ouma Kokichi had proved himself a competent liar. Why couldn’t he have lied about his personality, too?

 

“You’re the only chance I have with this,” Ouma said. It almost sounded like he was pleading, but Kaito brushed the notion aside. Ouma Kokichi was proud. It was the one thing Kaito was sure about, with him. “You’re the only chance I  _ ever _ had with this.”

 

“What do you mean?” Kaito asked, wincing inwardly at how shaken he sounded. No matter what Ouma was really like, Kaito was sure the sudden shift had been intentional, meant to throw him off of his guard. “Why me?”

 

“Harukawa would never go along with this plan,” Ouma said. “And even if she did, she might… well, I’m just not sure my back-up plan would work, with her.”

 

“What, you think she’s incompetent or something?” Kaito snapped.

 

“No!” Ouma said hurriedly, almost offendedly. “Quite the contrary! She’s skilled, and willful, and I honestly wish I’d met her under better circumstances because I think I could have learned a lot from her. That’s the problem.”

 

“I don’t get it.”

 

“Well, I’m not exactly explaining it well, but…” Kaito heard Ouma sigh. “She doesn’t know when to bail, I guess.”

 

“Well,” Kaito said, not really convinced. “I guess that’s one person explained, as for the ‘only me’ part of this whole situation.”

 

“I doubt Yumeno would be up to the whole thing, really,” Ouma said.

 

Kaito had to admit there was a point there.

 

“And Shirogane… We’ve spent all this time in the same place, and I’m still not entirely sure what she’s like.”

 

“She calls herself plain.” Kaito said. “Almost in the same way you call yourself a liar.”

 

“Well, I am,” Ouma said. “But no one’s plain. Especially not somewhere like this. She’s as much of a liar as I am, whether she knows it or not.”

 

“Let’s not get philosophical here,” Kaito said.

 

“Not to mention,” Ouma continued, unfettered, “either of them  _ could _ be the mastermind.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Yumeno or Shirogane,” Ouma said. “I guess Harukawa  _ could _ be, too, but--”

 

“She’s not,” Kaito said firmly. “No way in hell.”

 

“Right,” Ouma said. “It’s a dumb idea, to consider her as the mastermind, at this point.”

 

“So that’s the girls down.”

 

“What? Oh, right.” Kaito heard an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, uh. Kiibo! Kiibo. What do we know about his professor?”

 

“... Not much?”

 

“Basically nothing,” Ouma agreed. “We don’t know if his professor’s the mastermind. And even if he’s not, Kiibo could still be hacked. There’s clearly a lot of technical skill involved, here.”

 

Kaito considered that. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

 

Ouma didn’t answer. The two of them were silent, for a while.

 

“What about Shuichi?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You haven’t mentioned why you can’t get Shuichi in on whatever your dumb plan is.”

 

More silence.

 

“Ouma?”

 

“The others need him.” Kaito could barely hear what Ouma was saying, through the door. “They need him to solve it, if things go wrong in a way I can’t prepare for.”

 

“Solve it?” Kaito breathed.

 

Ouma didn’t respond. He probably hadn’t heard.

 

“Ouma, are you planning a murder?” Kaito demanded. “I’m not going to do this for you, I’d--”

 

“You’ll be just fine, assuming things go to plan,” Ouma said. “If we can pull this off, I’ll be the blackened  _ and _ the victim.”

 

Kaito’s breath caught in his throat.

 

~*~*~*~

 

In hushed tones, Kaito accepted the crossbow and bolt from Yumeno, and tried not to think too hard about Ouma’s voiced suspicions. They shouldn’t have been getting to him, but as he assembled the crossbow and notched his ammo, thoughts swirled in the back of his mind.

 

She could have poisoned it. She might have brought it to him intending to make him a killer. Her protests, that he couldn’t kill Ouma because then he’d be executed and she couldn’t bear to lose another friend, might have been token. Might have been false.

 

Kaito shook his head and, slowly, opened the door.

 

Ouma, where he’d been leaning against the press, sat bolt upright. At first, Kaito thought he saw the boy’s eyes brighten, until they landed on the crossbow.

 

“Momota…?” Ouma stood, taking a few steps towards him.

 

Kaito aimed his weapon, putting Ouma on the offensive. “I’ll  _ hear _ your plan now,” He said. “But if I don’t like it, I’m leaving.”

 

“That works,” Ouma squeaked. Squeaked! As though he had any right to do so, after everything he’d done. Still, he dropped the EMP and explained his plan.

 

Kaito had to admit, it had a certain draw to it, from his angle. They’d set up a scene where at first, it would look like Kaito was dead and Ouma was the killer. After some unravelling, the others would find out Ouma was the truly dead one, making it look like Kaito was the killer. But in reality, Ouma would have killed himself before Kaito had the chance, and the weapon would be disposed of alongside all evidence that the corpse was, in fact, approximately eleven inches shorter than the originally conceived victim.

 

“What’s in this for you?” Kaito asked, eyes narrow.

 

Ouma sighed. “I get to die feeling in control of something, I guess,” He said. “Or maybe, it’s just that, no matter how this plan goes, I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder anymore.”

 

“Huh?” Kaito took a step back, despite being the person holding a weapon.

 

Ouma looked up at him. Over the course of the killing game, Kaito had seen many emotions on Ouma’s face, some of them even genuine. But he’d never seen him look tired. Ouma Kokichi looked up at Kaito, and every line and shape in his face was filled with exhaustion and fear, underscored with a vague, weak hope that was almost worse than the demonic expressions that haunted Kaito’s nightmares.

 

Kaito kept his hands steady, as Ouma stepped towards him.

 

“I’m tired, Momota,” Ouma said. “I just want to go to sleep.”

 

Kaito fired.

 

Ouma twitched, the bolt catching him in the side of his shoulder rather than the front, but his expression didn’t change. “Please,” He whispered.

 

The door to the hanger opened. 


	2. Pulled Up Pavement

“Does your plan have a revised edition?” Kaito asked. “Because--”

 

“I get it,” Ouma said. “It’s-- It’s fine. It’s okay. I can work with this, just-- she said she was getting an antidote, right?”

 

“I’ve seen the antidotes in Shuichi’s lab,” Kaito said. “There’s only one dose of each. No matter what, we’re on the clock.”

 

“So, are you going along with my plan?” Ouma asked. “I’d like to know now.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Kaito said. “If it’ll save Harumaki.”

 

A pained smile made its way onto Ouma’s face. “It can sure as hell try.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“You bastard!” Harumaki yelled. “You bastard! I’ll kill you!”

 

Kaito barely heard her. He was too focused on the pain spreading through his veins and on bottle in Ouma’s hands.

 

The bottle that Ouma had just drained, and was still clutching like it was some sort of lifeline, as though he hadn’t just taken that power from it, rendering it useless.

 

Kaito thought of the knife in the other room. He didn’t know where Ouma had gotten it, but he knew where it was now. If he could get to it, then…

 

Then what? Would he kill himself, to spare himself the experience of slowly succumbing to the poison? Kill Ouma, just to see the satisfaction drain from him with his blood?

 

“Oh, good luck with that,” Ouma laughed. “It’s not like you’re getting back in here.”

 

Harumaki growled, and left the window, presumably to try the hanger door again.

 

Ouma turned to Kaito.

 

“I should have expected this from you,” Kaito growled.

 

Ouma held up the bottle, shifting his grip to show the liquid sloshing around inside of it, and stumbled forward, pretty much collapsing in front of Kaito. “Should you?” He asked, only a little sarcastically. “From my behavior up until now, I’d have thought you were expecting a betrayal.”

 

Kaito blinked.

 

Ouma held out the bottle. “Drink up, it’s good for you.”

 

Kaito drank.

 

~*~*~*~

 

In their hurry to get Ouma into the press, they dropped the knife.

 

“Momota,” Ouma managed. It was getting harder for him to speak, but he still tried to reach out for the fallen weapon.

 

“We don’t have time,” Kaito snapped, putting Ouma’s arm in the proper position. “Now hold still and be quiet.”

 

Ouma sighed. “Shouldn’t have done the video,” He muttered. “Didn’t need that.”

 

“Too late now,” Kaito said.

 

“I know.”

 

Kaito hurriedly moved up to the camera, had it continue the recording, and turned on the press. He didn’t look, tried not to listen, as Kokichi’s body crunched in the machine.

 

Then, once the camera was off and stored in the cabin of the exisal, he set to cleaning up, a little.

 

There wasn’t much he could do about the blood, besides try not to get too much of it on himself. The other boy’s clothes, folded at the base of the steps, were flushed down the toilet easily enough. The chord to the press severed. Dozens of smaller changes and preparations written in the back of a book on how to imitate a dead man.

 

At the bottom of the page, in very small handwriting, Kokichi had written, “I hope it doesn’t come to this.” It was written so matter of factly, as though it were describing a way to cheat at, say, pool. Not at all like someone talking about their own death.

 

Eventually, Kaito had to pick up the knife. He did so, trying to touch it as little as possible without dropping it.

 

“You didn’t have to do this,” He said to the empty room. “I’m not quite sure what to say. Is a thanks in order? Or should I just call you a bastard again, and be done with it?”

 

He rinsed off the knife in the sink, and climbed into the exisal cabin. Before he closed himself inside, he laughed mirthlessly. “Whatever it is, I’ll be with you soon enough to say it.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was with great surprise, that Kokichi found himself opening his eyes. He looked around. It wasn’t that he was in the dark, per se. There was just nothing there. Not even a floor for him to stand on.

 

He floated a while in the nothingness. “Is this death, then?” He asked.

 

“I suppose.”

 

He turned around.

 

Standing there, truly standing, as though there was a floor, was a girl only a bit older than him. She had light brown hair, and wore a green jacket, a white shirt, and a brown skirt. “I can only talk to you like this for a short time,” She said. “I don’t know how long you’ll be here.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Kokichi asked. “Who are you?”

 

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter much. You won’t remember this when they wake you up, and then they’ll move your data.”

 

“Data-- hold on.” Kokichi shook his head. “Am I… not the real me? Is this--” He gestured at himself, “-- just an active version of what a bunch of stored memories think they should be?”

 

“This is where you’ll be until they wake you up in there,” She said. “You won’t remember any of this. At the very least, not until it’s all over.”

 

“That’s weird,” Kokichi said.

 

“Your memories from a certain point until the move your data will be held apart from you for some time,” She said simply. “After that? I don’t know why the others haven’t remembered.”

 

“And you can’t talk to them,” Kokichi said.

 

“Their data is more secure,” She said. “I’d attempt to bypass the memory lock, but I’m a little hesitant to mess with your mind, or the data that interacts with it. Especially with this kind of time limit.”

 

Kokichi crossed his arms. “So, what then? Who even are you?”

 

“Oh,” She said brightly. “You mean my name?”

 

“That’s a good start.”

 

“Oh, it’s--”

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was time to throw the whole plan out the window, Kaito knew. Monokuma, although having admitted to having no idea what was going on or what had happened, had still managed to make it everyone else’s problem.

 

And now, Shuichi was staring down the exisal, saying his name, and telling him to climb out.

 

The eyes of fourteen students, living and dead, spurred him onwards, and reached for the controls to open the cabin.

 

He spared a glance down. Kokichi’s robot was, as it had been for the whole trial, still. Due to the nature of the murder, Monokuma had declined to activate either it or Kaito’s until the victim was confirmed.

 

Kaito bit his lip, had the exisal jump over to his own spot, and opened the cabin. “Hey,” He said.

 

“Kaito!” Shuichi and Harumaki said, excitement and surprise more plain on their faces than he’d ever expected to see.

 

“Momota!” Everyone else said at the same time.

 

“Oh, does this mean we can bring back your dearly beloved classmate to witness his killer’s execution?” Monokuma asked excitedly.

 

The class was silent.

 

“Y-Yeah,” Kaito said. “Yeah, bring him out.”

 

The robot across from him began to hum softly, the sound joining the hums of the rest of their deceased class.

 

He could say what he would about the whole situation, Kaito supposed, but he was pretty sure Kiibo’s body was of higher quality construction. At the very least, quieter.

 

Kokichi, in robot form, stretched, opened his eyes, and looked around. “Is it over?” He asked softly. Kaito found himself, once again, barely hearing the guy.

 

“We haven’t voted yet,” Shirogane volunteered. “But we’re pretty sure about what happened.”

 

Kokichi looked around the room, and then, finally, back to Kaito. “What happened?” He asked. He was still so quiet. “Did it work?”

 

Kaito whistled through his teeth. “We can go over that in a--”

 

“What happened?” Kokichi-- The robot that had his face and voice and moved like him, but was it him, really?-- leaned forward, gripping his podium, suddenly demanding.

 

If he hadn’t died, would Kaito have ever gotten used to the sudden changes that came over Kokichi? If he hadn’t been the one in that position to kill him, would he have ever seen them?

 

“What happened,” Shuichi said, “is that we’re ready to vote.”

 

Kaito hopped down from the exisal.

 

A minute later, there was a unanimous vote for him.

 

The dead couldn’t vote. They had lost their right to democracy. In previous trials, Kaito had considered it unfair, a little bit. These were still their friends affected. They still had to participate in the debate.

 

Now, though, Kaito was just glad to see that Kokichi hadn’t had the opportunity to vote for himself.

 

“How’d you even live with yourself long enough for Mo-moron to kill you?” Iruma asked. “After everything you’ve done, you could have at least done us the favor of offing yourself.”

 

“Since when have I ever done anyone any favors?” Kokichi shot back. His voice was everything it had always been; callous and unbothered. Still, Kaito thought back to those last few hours in the hanger.

 

“Hey, man,” He said.

 

Kokichi turned.

 

“I, uh…” Kaito said. “You didn’t have to do a lot of the shit you did, you know. And I’m not to happy about most of it. But, uh…”

 

“Is he actually saying what I think he’s saying?” Amami leaned over and asked Kiibo.

 

“He might be,” Akamatsu agreed.

 

“Thanks,” Kaito said. A few people started muttering. “Thanks for not letting Harumaki die.”

 

“Kaito,” Harumaki whispered. Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes brimmed with tears demanding to fall. It looked like the effort of holding back her emotions was finally going to be too much.

 

“Hey,” He said, offering a nervous grin. “Smile for me, okay? I won’t be too far away.”


End file.
